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One second there’s unabashed exhilaration as you chase five bombers down the River Thames, sending them to a watery grave, and the next you’re spitting blood as you’re asked to fly reconnaissance in a sand storm that’s exactly the same color as the desert floor. “Is that storm or ground?” you ask. Fly into it and see. Handy hint: if you explode, then it’s land. Totally unacceptable.
Such missions are patience testers of the highest order, creating self-enclosed flaws present only in those particular missions. One level sees you sneaking below radar to “revenge-torpedo” a Japanese warship for Pearl Harbor - but whereas in every other level your plane is a damage sponge, absorbing lead at an alarming rate, a single brush with a tree here makes your so-called war machine detonate in a farcical fashion. They clearly don’t make ’em like they used to - in that modern day planes don’t explode when touched.
